So somehow I didn't know that Lawrence Ferlinghetti was reading at the Y on monday. Dammit. For years I tried to find that man, but to no avail. Now, he just waltzed down 92nd street and I missed it.
My favorite old beat was a professor of mine in college. He lives a block away. I can literally see the back of his brownstone from the window in my tenement apartment that looks out the back. I saw him on the street once a few months ago. He's one of the few people who recognized me after I cut off my dreadlocks, but still is so overworked and busy that he doesn't have time for lunch. He sent me a photo in explanation, but hopefully will spare some time soon for some coffee at veselka, or his favorite there, scrambled eggs. Maybe he'll come by my new studio?
Alfred is the second in from the left, wielding the crazy pick. I love his guts.